


and my heart

by monyaka



Category: The Tyrant’s Bodyguard (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Mild Angst, Pining, first person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27583379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monyaka/pseuds/monyaka
Summary: and if i were to let you sleep in my bed tonight, in this bed that even i think is too large for a shadow like me, would you turn and bury your head in the crook of my neck?—it’s late at night, and sean can’t stop thinking about his bodyguard.
Relationships: Sean Li/Jin Park
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	and my heart

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to sir midnight, the ceo of ttb. 
> 
> based off that one quote from the fireworks scene: “i see... it’s not only the difference in status, but... also the same-sex relationship, and that is going to be a problem in this country. and my heart... well, as far as they are concerned, i can...”

i’ve always been a calculated person. a quiet person. a reserved person. i was the moon, and my brother was the sun. he was the source of light, of heat, of life. and i was his pale reflection, a shard of his greatness, with a whole world of infernal shadow hidden behind a reflected smile. 

and so when i saw you, i thought — he must be an inferno. your eyes blaze with passion… no, more than that. with an all-consuming hatred. and i thought —  _ ah. that’s what it’s like to live life without a mask. _

you’re beautiful in my eyes, jin park. and yet, as an emperor, as the moon in the sky, as a man who loves another man, i can’t find it in me to vocalize it. i lie awake at night, run my fingers over my lips and try to chase down the memory of you. the way you kissed me, fervently, as if i were just another man and you weren’t a bodyguard i’d called in under suspicions of treason. your hands touched my shoulders and it felt like a punch, like the air was knocked out of me.

i’m not a weak person. i’ve never been allowed to be. but you, mr. jin, made me so. or is it that i’ve always been weak, and that your blunt words and honest face stripped away my mask of strength and left me vulnerable. and weak to you.

everything about our relationship is a problem. i am the emperor, and you are my bodyguard. the two of us are both men. and when i kissed you, when my hands found their way to the fabric of your clothes and you exhaled sharply down my throat, you told me the truth. that i don’t know how to take off my mask. that even as much as i trust you, even as much as i want you to see what’s underneath… i don’t know how to stop tricking you. i don’t know what it’s like to be real.

_ i love you, _ i want to say. i want to take both your hands and kiss your fingers one by one. but i don’t, because you’re right. when your mask has become your skin, every word that falls from your lips is a lie. but if my mask is mildew on my skin, you’re a bath of bleach. you penetrate the very framework of my falsehoods and leave me pure and clean. innocently smiling, like a young boy. you make my heart beat fast, you make me want to throw everything i’ve worked for aside. 

because the two of us are the same. and because i think i love you. ( i think, i think. my mask isn’t supposed to feel any emotion, so i can’t be sure. but i think, even as stupid as it is, as much as it ruins everything i’ve aspired to be, i think i’m recklessly, irresponsibly, head-over-heels in love with you. )

i pour the alcohol and hear it slosh against the glass. your cheeks are pink with the effects of it, and i think —  _ oh, last time we sat to drink together, our lips met, our lips met. _ and my heart is pounding with a schoolgirl’s rhythm, and i can’t help but think that i’ve never felt this way before. that i’ve never gone out of my way to impress a man for such a trivial reason. you plunged me in bleach and let my impurities dissolve, and i’m new. 

when you look at me, i want to believe that i’m brand new.

and if i were to let you sleep in my bed tonight, in this bed that even i think is too large for a shadow like me, would you turn and bury your head in the crook of my neck? would you enjoy the smell of my soap? ( it smells like iris flowers. i wonder if you like flowers, and which ones you like, and if you’d hold my hand as we stroll in a meadow of them. if i asked you, would you spend your life with me? what are you thinking, sean, you have to stay focused. ) if you looked at me with those dark, brooding eyes, would i be able to resist pressing my lips to yours, just to get a taste of that inferno? it doesn’t matter if you hate me or love me so long as i’m in your thoughts… that’s how i feel, and i have to wonder if i’ve always valued myself so poorly.

_ your majesty, _ you say in the back of my mind, and i have to breathe out a ragged breath and feel the tears roll off my face and onto my pillow.  _ your majesty, you’ve never had fried chicken? your majesty, you shouldn’t overwork yourself. your majesty, you don’t belong in this corrupt palace.  _

_ your majesty, that day… it wasn’t an accident. i can’t stop thinking about it. _

no. don’t entertain it, don’t keep thinking, close your eyes, go to sleep, just  _ stop, stop, stop _ —

_ your majesty, i want to have tea with you again. _

“please,” i whisper, and my voice is a broken and desperate sound. i feel like a teenager in a palace where no servant deigns to heed his call. the silence swallows up my words, swallows up my tears, swallows up the feelings i’m too afraid to say out loud. “please don’t.”

_ your majesty — no, sean — i want to stay by your side.  _

i would do anything to be worthy of staying by your side. i can legalize same-sex marriage. i can step down from my position as emperor. i can be a brighter person, a happier person, a person that’s more like ian. 

_ but only if you take off your mask and kiss me as yourself. _

but my heart is not my own. would you understand if i told you? that i don’t know who i am, what i want? if i hold you close enough that you can hear the drumming against my ribcage, will you be able to place your fingers against my chest and touch my heart yourself? and if you did that, would you understand the anguish of being nothing more than a puppet of this corrupt system? can you heal my heart? and may i heal yours? i pick up my phone and look at your blurry contact photo for a long time. 

but i don’t send a thing.


End file.
